


Red Hood and the Lycan

by WriteFromWrong



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mass Effect 2, Minor Thane Krios/Shepard, Multi, Oh my God what is this crossover, POV Multiple, Red Hood is not the DC character, but I'm doing it anyway, but with Sterek - Freeform, just so you know, literally nobody asked for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24182350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteFromWrong/pseuds/WriteFromWrong
Summary: The Illusive Man has brought Shepard back from the dead, given her an impossible mission, and sent her off to do it with a ship and some dossiers on the weirdest elite soldiers, experiments, assassins, and scientists in the galaxy. But things with the Lycan don't go as predicted when someone called the Red Hood gets involved...
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Thane Krios/Female Shepard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Prologue: The Dossier

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first attempt at a fanfiction! Hopefully it's not complete ass. This little plot idea has been bouncing around my brain for a while, and even though it's the crackiest of crossovers I wanted to try and make it work. Who knows who the hell sits at the intersection of Mass Effect fan and Sterek fan, but here we are!
> 
> Note to Sterek fans who are not familiar with Mass Effect: this fic is set in the Mass Effect universe and in the game's storyline. As such, there'll be a lot of stuff included that I honestly don't have the time nor interest to explain (the lore is super rich but also pretty freaking dense). Basically, I'm not sure how much you'll get out of the story if you're just looking for some Sterek lovin' and don't give a flip about whatever the hell a Prothean is. But I'd recommend playing the games! They're pretty great, and some of the most enjoyable video game storytelling I've encountered.
> 
> Note to Mass Effect fans not familiar with Sterek: this fic focuses on Sterek primarily. It'll spend some time with the ME characters and even assumes their POV at times, but it's mainly a Sterek story. If you're not here for a non-canon gay pairing from an MTV show from a few years back, this probably won't be for you. If you don't know the pairing but think it sounds interesting, I'd recommend looking it up! There's a wealth of fics on this pairing, and you'll likely find something that captures your interest.
> 
> The fact that I think I have to post warnings tells me this is the most ridiculous niche pick, but I've already written over 5,000 words so I'm posting it, logic be damned.

Shepard eyed the dossier critically. Its friendly orange glow defied the dark secrets held within its files.  
“Miranda, I’m going to be honest about this one, I have my doubts. You know I don’t like Cerberus’s past experiments. Hell, I shut down my fair share of them! And now the Illusive Man is asking me to -”  
“To consider a potentially valuable asset.”  
The immaculate woman across from Shepard leaned forward, a sharply calculating look in her eyes. Not a hair was out of place, her makeup was flawless, and her sleek suit hugged every curve of her body intimately. Shepard couldn't help but feel like a slob whenever it was just the two of them.  
“Commander, you were ready to work with Okeer, a known war criminal. Even when you found out about his unethical work with the tank bred krogan, you and I both know you would have set aside your feelings had he survived. For the good of the mission. That’s why you’re the one the Illusive Man put his considerable resources behind.”  
Miranda picked up the dossier Shepard had left on her desk and held it out.  
“Not to mention the highly dangerous convicted felon we’re also tasked with recruiting, who you have yet to voice opposition towards. We’re looking for the best, and sometimes that means working with people whose backgrounds may be less than savoury. The Collectors are not holding back in their assault on humanity. We can’t allow scruples to hold us back from defending humanity.”  
Her tone was polished, smooth, and without a hint of doubt. If Shepard didn’t know her better, she would have guessed that it was rehearsed.  
All Shepard could do was cross her arms, feeling trapped in an unwinnable situation.  
“I don’t want any of this to be taken to mean that I approve. Of ANY of this.”  
Miranda’s lips tightened momentarily in irritation, the only brief crack in her flawless appearance.  
“Of course Commander. But these experiments were done by different people, in a different time. What we are looking at now is a potential asset for our team. Regardless of where he came from.”  
Shepard sighed heavily, and took the dossier, rising from the chair. She was still new to this team, to this mission. She never would have had these ethical conflicts with her last team. The closest thing was the innocence of Liara and Tali, being dragged into violent battles and seedy espionage, but they were both adult women making their own choices.  
This was different. A byproduct of Cerberus’ experimentation, what looked like horribly painful experimentation. A family destroyed. This man seemed to have left behind the horrors of his past, or at least was trying to run from it. Who was Shepard to drag him back into violence, especially with a Cerberus logo slapped on her chest?  
Shepard closed her eyes, only to see an image of Veetor’s paranoid mutterings in Freedom’s Progress. She could do nothing about the past, but doing nothing to improve the future would only bring more tragedies. The Collectors were a real and credible threat, and more people were going missing every day. Now was not the time to let her own principles stop her.  
“Set a course for Arvuna EDI. Let’s see if picking at old wounds gets us in trouble.”  
As she left Miranda’s office she reopened the dossier files, deciding to read through them more thoroughly this time. She was greeted by the title in bold white letters, a dramatic flair of the Illusive Man’s:  
THE LYCAN.


	2. Chapter 1: Arvuna

Shepard strolled through the colony seemingly at ease, Garrus and Jacob at her back. Mordin was busy tinkering away at something vaguely alive and smelly in his lab. Grunt was far too... abrasive for a mission this delicate. And Shepard felt that Miranda’s inclusion in any discussions with this potential recruit would only serve to derail things further.  
Besides, Jacob was smart enough to speak only when needed. And Shepard hoped that Garrus could tap into his old sardonic side that she had occasionally seen peeking through his newer, colder shell. They were both solid, dependable, and predictable enough, at least compared to the rest of her team.  
The colony of Asa was small and insignificant to both the Council and the big players in the Terminus Systems. The most populous part of the planet Arvuna in the Attican Traverse, it represented a quiet and neutral corner of the Milky Way, largely untouched by conflict or politics. Beyond some minor marine research and mining operations, there was little of note at all about the colony.  
That being said, it seemed to be some kind of market day, as people bustled about between stalls and various numbers and products were yelled out to the crowds. Shepard slipped around a group of marine researchers chattering away about some new aquatic lifeform with a turian, saying its toxins would do wonders for dextro-amino based races’ ability to eat the food of other races. Garrus chuckled softly, audible only to the team.  
“Bunch of scam artists.”  
Shepard sent him a wry glance before refocusing.  
“EDI, give me anything you have that could help me find this informant. It’s busy down here.”  
“The informant is known only by his alias, Red Hood.” EDI’s calm tone echoed in the team’s earpieces. “Cerberus has been keeping track of the Lycan for quite some time, but he dropped off their trackers about a month ago. Red Hood has previously been active on various forums on the extranet, sharing theories about past Cerberus research. He had a lot of wild speculation, but there were enough accuracies for Cerberus to keep tabs on his activity. Ten days ago he started posting about having evidence of genetic experimentations, along with descriptions that match Cerberus’ information on the Lycan.  
Cerberus cyberintelligence reached out under their own alias as an interested party looking to uncover information on these experiments, and promising to share sensitive information on other Cerberus activities. Red Hood arranged a meeting here. He said he would be dressed for his namesake, that he is a male human, and that you must identify yourself with the statement ‘Howl at the moon’.”  
As EDI relayed this information, Shepard’s eyes swept the crowd. Garrus mumbled behind her.  
“11 o’clock, on the bench.”  
Shepard spotted him immediately. From her angle she could identify a slim figure clad in a red hooded jacket, seemingly reading something on his omni tool. Nothing in his posture spoke of danger, or battle experience, though there was tension there. His knee was bouncing. She gestured to her team to remain where they were and picked her way through the sea of people to seat herself beside the figure. Feeling a bit stupid, Shepard pretended to be on a call.  
“I tell you, I’m so energised right now I feel like I could howl at the moon!”  
Immediately the figure flailed in the corner of Shepard’s eye, nearly knocking a box out of an indignant woman’s arms. With murmured apologies, the figure rose and moved quickly out of the plaza. Shepard followed closely behind, with her team at a safe distance behind her.  
The figure moved with a swiftness that belied practice with this route, albeit rather gracelessly at the same time. People and items were knocked into, and the figure’s gait seemed rather coltish to Shepard. Like he had yet to become used to the limbs he had. Certainly someone whose battles were conducted through a screen rather than more traditional warfare.  
The streets narrowed, darkened, and weaved in and out of each other as the party moved deeper. Shepard’s hand drifted to her pistol, her other hand activating the omni tool to help light the way. The alleys of Asa were nowhere near as foreboding as Omega’s plague-ridden quarter, or even the sleek corridors of Port Hanshan. But Shepard had not made it this far by relaxing in unfamiliar environments.  
The figure stumbled through a dark doorway. Shepard paused to let her team catch up before following him.  
The room was nondescript enough, seemingly some form of storage unit for old mining equipment. Piles of defunct machinery cast long shadows into the gloom of the room, creating plenty of space to hide. Red Hood was nowhere to be seen, and Shepard’s instincts were screaming that this was a trap. She was just bringing her omni tool up and unholstering her pistol when Garrus sidled up behind her.  
“There were some turrets set up in this room. ‘Were’ being the operative word. I’ve disrupted them, they won’t be turning on any time soon.” Jacob grunted at this, his solid features fixed into a scowl. Shepard could read his frustration at being led into a trap. She felt something along the same lines herself.  
Before any further observations could be voiced however, a metallic clang and muffled cursing caught their attention. Each of them levelled a gun towards the vent in the corner of the ceiling, Jacob glowing a faint blue with biotic energy.  
“Red Hood? Your trap has failed. We know you’re there. It’s in your best interest to come out of your hiding spot and talk to us. I am not afraid to open fire,” Shepard called out in a firm tone. A few seconds of silence passed. More muffled cursing and clangs cracked some of the tension, and the figure unfolded from the vent inelegantly to land in front of them.  
The first thing Shepard registered about Red Hood was how young he seemed. She was struck by his impish appearance. Large brown eyes framed with long lashes gave an impression of innocence, but the mischievous glint they held betrayed his more underhanded nature. His deep chestnut hair seemed to have been styled that morning, but was tousled out of shape by anxious hands running through it. His face was dotted with small moles, and he held slender hands in the air as a universal sign of surrender.  
“Woah woah woah! Hold up a second, alright? I wasn’t gonna turn those turrets on, necessarily. They were more of a security measure, you know, in case things turn a little dangerous and I need to protect myself. Which has clearly backfired. You guys must really know your stuff! Who are you?”   
This energised babble, much like the kid’s appearance, made Shepard feel uncomfortable for threatening someone so young. He reminded her of some of the colonists on Feros, before they were controlled by the Thorian. Her gut twisted slightly and she lowered her pistol.  
“I’m Commander Shepard. How old are you, kid?”  
Red Hood’s face was as animated as his speech, oscillating between frustration and confusion before settling on distrust.  
“Commander Shepard died two years ago. Try again.”  
Shepard sighed and rolled her eyes. This whole resurrection situation was starting to get on her nerves.   
“Yes, I am aware that I was seemingly killed,” she bit out, choosing to avoid the details for the time being. “But I was only wounded, and needed time to recover. Your turn to answer my question.”  
The kid folded his arms and jutted his jaw out stubbornly. “Nuh uh. There is definitely more to that story, even if it IS true. You’re gonna have to do a little better. You could be with Cerberus, looking to shut me up! Or one of those Eclipse assholes, tying up loose ends. You’re gonna have to prove you’re Commander Shepard. Who was the Alliance Officer Cerberus had killed for investigating the thresher maw experiment?”  
Shepard hissed out air between her teeth. Garrus seemed similarly shocked behind her.  
“How the hell does he know about that? The official story was he died of natural causes.”  
Shepard opted to answer the question rather than continue the suspicious digging. After all, EDI said the kid did have some of his info correct, and she only needed to get the Lycan’s whereabouts out of him.  
“Rear Admiral Kahoku.”  
Red Hood’s position drained of some tension, although he continued to chew his lip, continuing to look completely too young for this.   
“Shit, you are Commander Shepard. Or at least someone who really knows her stuff about Cerberus’s dirty dealings and is really good at cosplay. It'll do I guess, considering you guys look armed to the teeth.”  
Shepard couldn’t help but be reminded of Mordin. While the kid wasn’t quite as intense, and his brain didn’t leap around so much as hop in circles, they both seemed to analyse the situation quickly. And vocally.  
Jacob’s frustration with the traps and distrust seemed to finally boil over though, interrupting Shepard’s thoughts.  
“Yeah kid, we’re the real deal. And we’re looking for this Cerberus experiment you said you know about. So do you know where he is?”  
Red Hood’s shrewd gaze ran up and down Shepard’s squad.  
“Well I recognise Garrus Vakarian, although he seems a bit banged up. Another point to you for that by the way, potentially-real-Shepard. But who are you, Mr. Angry?”  
Shepard turned her head in time to catch the scowl that accompanied Jacob’s grunted response of “Jacob.” She refocused on Red Hood’s flailed response to his brevity, and decided to cut off any further interrogation.  
“Look, Red Hood -”  
“Stiles.”  
“What the hell is a Stiles?”  
“Commander, permission to kick Vakarian?”  
“- STILES THEN. You have information we would really like. I have information on some Cerberus operations that I’m sure you would like.” Miranda may have some choice words, but it was for the good of the mission. She’d have to understand. “How about we carry out this trade, and we all go our respective ways? Everyone’s happy, no fuss.”  
Stiles regarded Shepard seriously for a moment before his mercurial mood swung back to mischievous.   
“See, this is where things get interesting Commander. I don’t really care about whatever info you have. Research is kinda my thing you see. Having all the answers takes the fun out of it. I want something different from you, and then I’d be happy to tell you what I know.”  
Shepard was confident that whatever this kid wanted was going to be bad for her blood pressure. She pinched her brow.  
“What do you want then?”  
Stiles’ cheeky smirk bloomed into a full grin. There was something magnetic about him for sure, like he held some kind of inner spark that inexplicably drew the eye.  
“Your word, maybe-Shepard, that you’ll take me with you.”

***

“I’m still not OK with this.”  
Shepard had repeated this sentiment several times throughout this mission so far. Honestly, it felt like a mantra she had been repeating since she woke up in the Cerberus lab. She was getting sick of saying and thinking it, then continuing on with the mission anyway.  
Stiles kicked his feet up against the side of the Kodiak shuttle, blasting Shepard with the full force of his grin that hadn’t faded since they left Asa. Despite her reservations about him, Shepard could admit to being a little charmed by his attitude.  
“Relax, oh-Commander-maybe-not-my-Commander, I’m not planning to get stuck in the middle of bullets and biotics with the rest of you. I’ll hang back, nice and safe, and cheer you on from the sidelines. Maybe get up to some shenanigans with the old omnitool. But I’ll be as good as gold, you won’t even know I’m there! Scout’s honour.”   
He held up his hand and smiled around the cabin of the shuttle, seemingly oblivious to Shepard’s bafflement, Garrus’ lack of interest, or Jacob’s seething.  
The operative was not convinced.   
“Seriously, what age are you? Why did you need us if you knew where the Lycan was, and your goal was to go to him? Why DO you want to go to him?” He turned beseechingly to Shepard. “Commander, I’m concerned that we don’t know this kid at all, and we’re bringing him on a sensitive mission. We should have some answers before we let him off the shuttle.”  
Shepard agreed with Jacob’s sense, but had also given her word to allow Stiles to accompany them. Garrus was adjusting the scope on his sniper, providing absolutely no assistance. Rather than saying anything to compromise her delicate position, she merely shifted her eyes back to Stiles, hoping that his chatty nature would fill in the blanks.  
The smile slipped off the kid’s face like it melted, to be replaced by a steely glint in his eye and a clenched jaw. The sudden change brought a lot of maturity to his expression, so much so that Shepard reconsidered calling him a kid.  
“I’m 22, not that that really matters. Why did I go to all this trouble for you? Like I said before, you guys are packing heat. I knew whoever would take my bait would have to be pretty serious, you don’t go poking around Cerberus without being ready for a fight. Just ask Kahoku. Where we’re going that’s going to be pretty important, and my 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones doesn’t really stand up to a mass accelerated slug very well. As for why I want to go to the Lycan, he has something of mine. Pretty simple. Now stop scowling Mr. Angry, your little pout pales in comparison to true murder-brows. More interesting to me anyways, is why you three are so interested in him?”  
Shepard and her squad exchanged glances. So far they had avoided identifying themselves as a Cerberus operation due to Stiles’ apparent disdain for the organisation. It seemed prudent to avoid saying anything that might break his trust, considering his shrewd and slippery nature.  
Shepard decided to answer as truthfully as possible.   
“We have a question for him, a really important one.”  
Stiles did not seem to be appeased by this answer, based on his downturned lips, but fortunately Garrus chimed in with a suitable diversion.  
“You knew you’d need backup for this mission. Why don’t you tell us what you know so we can actually be prepared, considering you’re relying on us to prevent your body developing a new collection of holes?”  
This seemed to remind Stiles of what they were heading into, and he lit up his omnitool with a flail of a wrist. Despite this silly body movement though, his face turned even more grim. It uncomfortably reminded Shepard of Garrus’ darker side that she had been seeing more of recently.  
“Shit you’re right, good point. So, we’re heading to this research station in Arvuna’s orbit. Owned by a bunch of rogue researchers the forums call the Dread Doctors. As far as I can tell, it’s not affiliated with any specific organisation. It’s more like freelance research, if it was run by a bunch of evil pricks who sold their immoral research to the highest bidder. They’ve had the Lycan for about two weeks.”   
Stiles’ eyes gazed glassily out the window of the shuttle, even though they had been darkened for stealth purposes. His tone was clipped, somehow balancing intense focus with detachment.  
“Fortunately the Lycan’s something of a scientific marvel, so I doubt they’ve discovered his secrets and killed him in this time. I expect he’ll still be in whatever containment unit they have in the station. Problem is, it’s not just researchers. They seem to have a bunch of Eclipse mercs on hand as well, which is where you guys come in.”  
He turned flinty eyes devoid of warmth on Shepard.  
“So the plan is, we bust in there, grab a researcher to find out where the Lycan is, kill any of those fucks who get in our way, and free the Lycan. Sound good? Because it sounds pretty freaking great to me.”


	3. The Dread Doctors' Station

The Dread Doctors’ station was nothing Shepard hadn’t seen multiple times before, especially during her hunt for Saren a few years back. Sterile and polished environments concealed the horrors that had been visited upon living beings. The counters were littered with evidence of illegal experimentation: eezo manipulation in children, AI tinkerings, new hacking programs. EDI read out scanned files softly into the squad’s ears, until Stiles stiffened at her description of Project CHIMERA.  
It seemed that the Dread Doctors had known about the Lycan for much longer than two weeks. They were seeking to replicate Cerberus’ success but lacked the resources of the organisation’s science wing. Shepard didn’t think the original experiments could have been any more brutal, but the Dread Doctors’ limitations resulted in corners being cut by cruelty. Kidnapped children from small colonies were forced through horrific genetic manipulations and lethal tests of abilities. So far, they had not found much success.  
The reports did not care to consider the pain experienced by these “failures”, but it didn’t take much imagination to fill in the blanks.  
Shepard could see a wildness building in Stiles during the quieter moments of the infiltration as the descriptions of invasive surgeries, painful experiments, and damaging medication routines continued to pile up. She was growing more and more concerned he would compromise his own safety until Jacob planted a grounding hand on the younger man’s shoulder.  
“Whatever happened, we’re here now to say no more. They’re going down, you and I are making sure of that, and no more kids are gonna be taken.”  
After that, EDI didn’t read out any more files, but Shepard did make sure they were sent on to Mordin to check out. If the findings could be of use against the Collectors at least some good would have come out of the torture.  
For all of her reservations about bringing a civilian into a potential firefight, Shepard was surprised how smoothly the mission went. Garrus and Jacob operated well in tandem, blending omnitool disruptions, biotics, and gunfire into an efficient room-clearer. Shepard’s own aim was as reliable as ever, and Stiles did not prove a liability to the squad. It was good to see her squadmates were starting to work cohesively, and any firefight without civilian casualties was a good one.  
Stiles kept away from the fighting, and even followed Garrus’ directions to potential hacking opportunities to disrupt the mercenaries’ comms and mechs, moving with grim determination through the carnage left after Shepard’s team. There were no quips or witticisms from him, even when Garrus tried to break the gloomy tension by sharing a sardonic observation about the researchers’ lack of combat aptitude.  
“That one’s holding a shotgun upside down! Book smarts really don’t mean anything in a gunfight, I’ll have to tell the salarian.”  
As the turian worked to unlock the door to the station’s cell block a howl rang out from behind it. Shepard’s primal hindbrain recognised the twist of pain in the howl and she found herself gritting her teeth without even thinking about it. Stiles’ entire body locked up so quickly, there may have been an audible crack.  
“Get that door open Vakarian. Commander, give me one of your guns. I don’t care which one.”  
Shepard could see the steel in Stiles’ eyes, but she also remembered the kid who had accidentally tripped while climbing into the shuttle earlier that day. Not exactly someone to trust with a gun, especially when there was a hostage to be rescued. She turned to Stiles.  
“Look, Stiles, this is a delicate situation. It’s also my area of expertise. That’s why you brought us in, remember? We’re the muscle, and right now a little muscle is needed. So are you going to follow my lead? Or will I have to get Garrus to tie you up and leave you around the corner?”  
Stiles opened his mouth in protest at first, but slowly closed it as he pondered Shepard’s words. Eventually he nodded. Shepard gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile.  
“Great. I’m not giving you a gun. You’ll just end up shooting the Lycan, one of us, or yourself. Instead, your job is to make sure the Lycan is safe. That might mean dragging him out of the way. Or hacking something. Or just yelling to distract the mercs. But leave the fighting to the experts, and we’ll all be fine. Sound good? Because it sounds pretty freaking great to me.”  
Stiles snorted at the callback to his own words from earlier, briefly letting his features be coloured with humour. Shepard didn’t realise how much she missed the imp boy they had met so recently. She allowed herself to smile and clap Stiles on the back, as Garrus let out a satisfied grunt.  
“Ready to go Commander? I can open the door whenever now.”  
Shepard had no interest in waiting around for another of those disturbing howls and nodded to the turian. He tapped something on his omnitool, opening the doors to reveal a ghastly scene.  
A human man was shackled to the wall, surrounded by Eclipse mercenaries. A scientist stood to one side clutching at a bloody arm and screeching at the mercenaries.  
“Quickly! Quickly! The beast has to be moved! Up the charges, fry him if you need to! He's not listening to reason, so just make sure he can’t cause any further trouble! QUICKLY, WE CAN’T LOSE HIM!”  
Without a word Garrus fired a round into the scientist’s head, silencing him forever. The mercenaries whipped around, revealing what they had been doing.  
Their omnitools sparked at the end with contained electricity, seeming to operate as some kind of taser. The mercenaries moving into cover revealed multiple scorch marks tracking up and down the shackled man’s muscled torso.  
They had been shocking him, for who knows how long, to keep him down.  
It seemed to have some effect. The man’s head was drooped, hiding his features behind thick dark hair, but the tremors running through his heaving body seemed to indicate he was still conscious at least. This theory was confirmed when Stiles let loose a raw noise of disgust, prompting a flinch out of the man. Shepard sent the younger man a strict look, which he thankfully understood, slipping into the corner of the room behind a workstation as the mercenaries finished getting into position.  
The ensuing battle consumed Shepard’s attention after that. Jacob pulled mercenaries out of cover using his biotics, leaving Shepard and Garrus to pick them off with sniper fire. Eventually the final mercenary fell, and the squad paused to catch their breath and assess for any injuries.  
“Stiles?!”  
Shepard’s attention snapped to the two men left standing at the other end of the room. The dark haired man was slumped in Stiles’ grip, staring up at his face with both shock and awe painting his features. His eyes were a little unfocused, but the fog seemed to be lifting by the second.  
Stiles on the other hand, was a different man from the grim shadow they had escorted through the station. His entire being seemed to have lit up with that inner spark, his eyes practically glittering and lips stretched wide in a rapturous smile.  
“I know, I know, took me a bit longer than expected Sourwolf.”  
“Sourwolf?!”  
Shepard turned back to Garrus to shush his incredulous outcry, thankful it was at least quiet enough not to disturb the two men, when a wet snarl echoed through the room.  
Shepard looked back towards Stiles to see him hidden behind the other man, who was swaying dangerously. Despite this, he was making a valiant effort at looking as imposing as possible. Shepard noticed two things quickly about him.  
Firstly, the painful scorch marks had somehow already reduced to reddened patches of skin.  
Secondly, the man was surprisingly handsome. His body was obviously powerful, current weakness notwithstanding, a fine dusting of dark hair spreading across pectorals and trailing down his abs. His face was characterised by a strong jaw, a straight nose, and impressively thick eyebrows currently in a harsh scowl. Admittedly, his unkempt beard, pallid skin, and greasy hair didn’t do much for him, but Shepard was expecting a feral caveman. Instead she was looking at a male model after a particularly rough weekend.  
Any further contemplation was broken by the man’s raw voice.  
“Stiles, they’re Cerberus. You need to get out of here. Now. I’ll distract them.”  
Shepard’s hand went to her holstered pistol and rested there, the other extending behind her to quell her squadmates from acting rashly.  
“Let’s see how this plays out, stay calm and don’t do anything unless I say,” she ordered placidly.  
Stiles loosed a frustrated groan and punched the other man in the back of the shoulder, drawing a disgruntled look that quickly morphed into panic as he darted around to stand in front of the Lycan.  
With a gun pointed directly at Shepard.  
“Derek you fuzzy idiot, of COURSE I know they’re Cerberus. I was gonna play it cool until we could slip away! Or did you not notice them killing like 80 million mercenaries in about 45 seconds? What’s the plan now, huh? I’m gonna have to do something stupid to get us out of here. You and me big guy, we’re gonna have a long talk about following my lead once we get out of here. I swear-”  
Shepard cut off his annoyed rant before it could drag on further. “Stiles, you don’t have any reason to use that gun. I have no interest in hurting you or… Derek, was it? Let’s just talk, OK?”  
Stiles stared at Shepard, who was doing her best to keep her expression open. Behind him, Derek continued to sway and stiffen in a pathetic attempt to look intimidating, despite his obvious frailty. An occasional feeble growl broke the silence.  
“Alright, I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-Shepard, so far you and your guys have been decent enough. I’m listening, and I won’t shoot for no reason. But I’m holding onto the gun, and I’m asking the questions. Sound good?”  
Shepard nodded. It was the best she could hope for in light of her deceit.  
“Great. First things first, are you really Shepard? Cos I know there have been recent sightings, and rumours you were only badly injured, but I’ve seen the reports. You were dead. Super dead. Like, atmospheric reentry dead. You don’t come back from that.” Derek’s eyes widened at this information, but Shepard only cast Jacob an awkward look.  
“Yeah, I did die. It was terrible, I’d rather not discuss that specific experience. There was a massive expensive project, I was brought back, the project was compromised and a lot of the research lost. I know it’s not a great explanation, but I’ve only been back for a few weeks and I’m getting used to all of it myself.”  
Stiles was shaking his head in disbelief.  
“That’s crazy. Like, a krogan-salarian wedding levels of batshit. But, I suppose,” he looked at Derek with a softer gaze, “we all know science can do some pretty crazy stuff.” He refocused on Shepard and the gun raised back up from where it lowered. “But Cerberus. Explain.”  
Shepard rubbed the back of her head uncomfortably. It was hard to answer these questions considering she didn’t get satisfying answers herself when she was the one asking them. She didn’t want to continue the Illusive Man’s cycle of manipulation, yet here she was.  
“Honestly, they’re the ones that brought me back. Put a lot of resources into me from what I’ve heard. And they did it for a reason. The Collectors are abducting humans from colonies outside of Alliance space, and nobody’s doing anything about it. Except for me, now. I’m mounting a mission to take them out, and Cerberus is bankrolling the operation.”  
Shepard could tell that convincing these two to have any faith in her was going to be difficult. Stiles has just revealed that he knew he was being lied to before, and now has a gun pointed at her. And Derek… Shepard’s soul still felt chilled from reading his dossier about his past with Cerberus. To help lift some of the tension, she moved to sit on one of the chairs scattered around the room, gesturing for the pair across from her to do the same. She then turned to her squadmates still lingering.  
“Jacob, Garrus, do me a favour and keep an eye at the door for any more Eclipse. We may have missed some pockets in the station and I don’t want to be surprised.” The two nodded silently and moved out of the room. Shepard turned back to the two men to see Stiles gently helping Derek into a chair, despite the bigger man’s stony focus on Shepard. She smiled ruefully at their mutual fussing.  
“Honestly, I get why you guys aren’t exactly rushing over to hug me. You seem to know about my past with Cerberus Stiles, I’ve seen some of the terrible things they have done to the galaxy. And I have no doubt that there are plenty more dark, sticky things I don’t know about. I’m never going to be a Cerberus agent, or anything like that. We’re working together because in this specific issue we have the same goals. Once I’ve sorted the Collectors out, I’ll walk away from Cerberus and be happy to never look back. Kind of like you were planning to do with us, right Stiles? Work together on this mission, rescue Derek, and then go our separate ways. I’m doing the same thing. It’s just my mission is a bit more complicated.”  
Derek shifted at that. He sat forward and scowled, this time more thoughtfully.  
“So you came here for me then? Why?”  
Stiles scooted closer to Derek and tightened his grip on the gun, which Shepard was glad to see had lowered to his waist and did not come back up. She straightened her spine and set her shoulders, trying to channel Anderson’s calm and non-threatening authority.  
“This mission requires the best of the best. We don’t know much about the Collectors, but they’re clearly technologically advanced, and are capable of vanishing entire colonies without a trace. I’m assembling an elite team to take the fight to them, and stop them from taking any more innocent people.”  
“And you want me for my abilities.”  
Shepard nodded. Derek’s tone betrayed nothing at all, and his heavy gaze made her want to lower her eyes submissively. Like his howl before, something about his presence triggered a primal fear in Shepard, like staring at a lion behind glass. Instead she stared right back. The Lycan lifted one eyebrow slightly, the only indication of any change in his mood. Shepard suspected he was surprised by her challenge.  
Any further competition was interrupted by a flailing hand and an indignant squawk.  
“Oh my God are you serious? You went to all of this trouble to recruit Derek to your band of merry men? Off to save the galaxy or whatever? Are you kidding me?”  
Shepard shrugged coolly.  
“It’s not like I haven’t done it before.” Stiles’ sputters did bring a slight smirk to her face.  
“Not a fucking chance! This sounds like a suicide mission! This whole mission was to stop Derek from getting cut open by a bunch of assholes to see what makes him tick. I’ll tell you what makes him tick. His heart. There, problem solved. But does that mean they’ll leave him alone? Noooooooo, of course not, because there’s always more “research to be done.” So they cut and they burn and they poke and they shock and-”  
Derek laid a firm hand on Stiles’ shoulder, turning him to look into his eyes. Even as he listed to the side slightly, his gaze held a reassuring fortitude even to Shepard.  
“I’m here now. I’ll be OK.”  
Stiles unwound slightly, stopping the flex of his fingers around the pistol. Letting loose a long breath, he refocused intently on Shepard. His other hand reached up until it rested in Derek’s hair.  
“So, Derek and researchers is a big no. Derek and Cerberus? Huge no. Citadel-sized no. And even if he does magically agree to fight the Collectors, do you know what they do? Collect interesting specimens. And Derek is literally the most interesting human in the galaxy. You’re pushing the lamb into the lion’s den and asking him to take down the lion. Like I said before, not a fucking chance.”  
If looks could kill, Shepard would at the very least be on fire. For all his youth and lack of experience, Stiles was a formidable figure in that moment. She had no interest in using force on the two, but even if she considered it it’s not likely she would have tried anything with the grip the younger man had on the gun. Or the older man’s steady gaze, smouldering with the embers of repressed rage. He seemed content to let Stiles tear into Shepard verbally, but Shepard could tell that he was quite prepared to do the same thing physically if she were to make the wrong move.  
No, that man had been hurt enough my Cerberus imposing its will. Shepard sighed and rubbed her face.  
“Look, Cerberus sent me a dossier on Derek. About his abilities, and how they came to be. I’m sure a lot of information was withheld, it didn't even include his name after all, but what I read was enough to have an idea of how much they’ve hurt you.” She could tell these words had captured both men’s interest.  
“I have no interest in taking prisoners, or forcing people into missions they don’t want to do. And I am on your side when it comes to Cerberus - no matter what happens, I won’t turn you in to them. But this mission is important. Thousands of people have disappeared. Thousands more probably will. This is bigger than me. It’s bigger than you, bigger than Cerberus. I’m here to ask if you will join me in saving all those people.” Shepard stood from her chair and moved to one side.  
“You decide what happens next Derek. You can join me and help to save countless lives. Or you can refuse. We’ll give you a lift back to Arvuna, and we’ll never see each other again.”  
There was nothing more to say, Shepard had played all her cards and put her heart on the line. There was no tactical merit in an imprisoned operative, and the woman behind the Spectre refused to harm these two. They were projecting an aggressive aura right now, but Shepard could tell it was the violence of a dog that's been kicked too many times.  
Stiles and Derek looked at each other, seemingly communicating nonverbally. There was a lot of eyebrow juggling from Derek. Stiles seemed to prefer expressive faces, gestures, and huffing. Suddenly Derek turned back to Shepard.  
“I’m in.”  
Stiles flailed so hard he hit his wrist off a desk, launching into a string of curses before wheeling around on Derek.  
“Are you serious Sourwolf? Remember what I just said about following my lead? You can’t let your stupid 'I must save all the squishy humans even if they hate me',” this part was said with a scowl and an attempt at a growl, “schtick get you stuck on a Collector’s examination table! And what if Shepard is wrong, or she betrays us, and Cerberus lays another fucking finger on you? Derek, that can’t happen, I ca-”  
The Lycan in question caught Stiles’ hands within his own, staring at him steadily. Shepard was yet again shocked by his recovery. He merely seemed slightly hungover now, where mere minutes ago he couldn’t stand under his own power.  
“Stiles, she’s right. This is bigger than us. What if something happened to your Dad, and Scott, and everyone else? They’re not in Alliance space, you know that makes them vulnerable. You need them to be OK, and I can help. Besides....” the man smirked evilly, making Shepard think of some kind of demon of temptation. “How else are you gonna get your hands on those Cerberus files? You want to learn more about what happened to me? They have the answers.”  
Shepard was unsure how much she could give them, considering Miranda drip-fed her the information she considered to be relevant to the mission, and nothing else. But if the Red Hood wanted to dig around in a Cerberus computer, Shepard certainly wasn’t inclined to do anything about that.  
Stiles looked similarly unconvinced, but the longer Derek held strong in front of him the more his resistance wore away. With a heavy swallow and a lick of his lips, he turned back to Shepard.  
“If this is going to work, I have some terms and conditions.”  
Shepard smiled in relief.  
“Whatever you want kid. Welcome to the squad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello any readers still interested in this bizarro fanfic setup!  
> I'd apologise for how long it's been since I updated, but I don't want to put myself on some kind of schedule for uploads. This is a bit of a passion project to work with under current global circumstances, it's not a job, so I'm not gonna stress myself about this.  
> That being said, I wasn't doing much with this over recent weeks due to finishing all of the bits of my final assignments. Now those are wrapped up I'm a little more free!
> 
> So yeah, I am not the kind of writer who plans or writes way in advance. I literally didn't think of incorporating the Dread Doctors until I was writing that section. I hope to incorporate more TW stuff in ways that fits the ME universe, but we'll see how that goes lol.
> 
> I know I've said multiple POV, and so far it's only been Shepard, but I felt it was needed for the opening bits. I'm feeling once Stiles and Derek become members of the Normandy that might be juggled up a bit.
> 
> But for now, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It was starting to feel a little dialogue heavy at parts, but I'm not gonna be too hard on my first writing experiment either.


End file.
